


Like A Wrecker

by RoboAquaria



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Bondage, Broken Bones, Emotions, M/M, Rough Sex, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Wreckers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-04-11
Packaged: 2019-04-21 16:10:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14288589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoboAquaria/pseuds/RoboAquaria





	1. Chapter 1

Whirl leaned into the back of his booth. He secluded himself but a small group of nobodies on this ship full of nobodies had taken the last table available, right behind him.

He couldn't help but listen.

“He likes wreckers.” one said. “That’s his type. He doesn’t do the whole tall or short thing. He just likes tough.”

“I thought it was just a hobby.”

“Convenient, ain’t it?”

Whirl felt memories of being a wrecker bubble on the fringe of his mind, trying to will it away from boiling. Instead, the gossip about a little doctor’s potential tastes was his focus. After all, he was once a wrecker, and once a wrecker, always a wrecker.

It’d be nice to have that kind of attention and Whirl couldn’t feel any hesitation.

He got up quietly. He left a poor tip on the table and skulked through the halls close to the medbay. Whirl eventually caught sight of First Aid, and hollered at him.

“Hey!” he yelled, voice echoing in the otherwise empty hallway. 

First Aid jumped in place. “Whirl! You don’t need to shout.”

“I don’t need to do anything.” Whirl snapped, before grumbling. “Wait, incorrect, for once. I do need to talk to you.”

First Aid’s visor flashed. “You probably have to ask Ultra Magnus first.”

“No, he’s banned me from his office.” Whirl said. “He said I can write him letters to petition for his time but honestly, no thanks. I just overheard something... about you.”

First Aid squinted, not particularly pleased to hear others were talking about him.

“I hear you like wreckers.”

“Oh.” First Aid put his hand to his chest, relieved. “I do. I used to collect old wrecker autobrands, and I do a lot of reading about them and their missions in my downtime.”

“Yeah yeah,” Whirl said, waving a claw. “I meant I heard you  _ like _ wreckers.”

First Aid couldn’t miss the insinuation in Whirl’s tone. “I just read mission logs. Personal backgrounds. At least, whatever’s public.”

Whirl flexed. “Alright but if you ever do  _ like _ wreckers, don’t be afraid to stop by my room.” He shifted his weight, making sure his hip stuck out noticeably. “Just stand back after you knock on the door. That’s how Siren lost an arm last week.”

* * *

First Aid leaned against the wall after Whirl disappeared around the corner. He could feel his spark shaking. An actual wrecker, making an offer? Was he making an offer? Sure it was Whirl, but he was a  _ wrecker _ .

The idea settled in his mind, and it got his engine warmed up.

First Aid shakily inhaled, realizing he was seriously considering Whirl’s offer.

Before he knew it, he was at Whirl’s habsuite. He knocked, stepped aside as advised, Whirl answered (loudly) after banging on the door himself, and then he was in.

There was no light on, the room only lit by a blank holoscreen, a couple of clocks, and their optics.

“To be honest, I thought you weren’t gonna show up.” Whirl said. “I started to think maybe you just liked wreckers in a regular ol’ nerdy way.”

“I do.” First Aid said. “But,” he twiddled his fingers, rubbing the seams. “I, I also…”

“Oh my god.” Whirl’s optic grew huge. “You really do got the hots for wreckers?”

First Aid’s finger shot up into Whirl’s face. “Listen-”

“Why?”

“Let me j-”

“Who’s your favorite?”

“Springer. Listen, W-”

“Oh, fuck Springer.” Whirl groaned. “I mean don’t actually but I didn’t expect you to have such poor taste. Ugh.”

“Listen to me.” First Aid said, pushing against Whirl’s arm rotor. “I like wreckers historically. I just also-”

“Picture yourself getting wrecked by Springer, I get it.” Whirl interrupted. “Here’s an idea: Dump Springer and picture me instead.”

“It doesn’t work like that.”

“Look,” Whirl said, defeat in his tone. “You wanna fuck a wrecker. I wanna fuck anything. I mean, anyone.”

First Aid curled a hand under his jaw. “So, what, I can just close my optics?”

“Call out Springer’s dumb name, I don’t care.” Whirl said as he fell backwards into a chair, legs apart. “So, we doin’ this or what?”

The medic hummed, tapping his foot. “I have to finish my shift, I’m here on break. I’ll be back in a couple hours.”

“It’s a yes?” Whirl jumped up in disbelief, back on his feet. 

Whirl’s claws ended up on First Aid out of excitement, and he batted the helicopter away. “Yes, if Ratchet doesn’t kill me for being late!”

 


	2. Chapter 2

First Aid rushed out of the medbay as soon as he could. Ratchet had asked if he were up to anything. Off the cuff, First Aid told him he had plans at home and was relieved when Ratchet left it at that.

Before he could grasp it, he was in Whirl’s bed. First Aid was lying on his stomach, palms flat and trying to look over his shoulder.

A claw dragged down his side and he shivered. Whirl was mumbling and breathing harder behind him. When First Aid lifted his hips, he found himself grabbed roughly.

It sent a wave of heat trembling from his core, frame not used to such touches.

“Ahh,” he sighed, metal kibble separating. he felt his spike against his inner thigh, hard and hot. His valve ached just as hard for any attention. “I want-”

First Aid gasped at something hot, something hard, something kind of pointy prodding him.

He wanted to hear anything but First Aid laid there, back arched as Whirl quietly rubbed against him. Unwilling to do anything that could make him stop, he pictured Wreckers instead. His favorites rolled through his mind; Springer, Twin Twist, Kup.

Kissing his lips, biting his neck, fingers around his spike. Everything Whirl did was at the hands of someone else in First Aid’s imagination.

Whirl, meanwhile, had his optic shut as he moved his hips. No one was in his mind, nothing was there. Nothing existed besides First Aid’s wet valve against his spike.

He did try to resist his temptation, remembering just in time that some individuals don’t appreciate a rush, but Whirl began to feel overwhelmed.

One quick thrust and the pointed head of Whirl’s spike was in First Aid’s valve. “Ahh!” First Aid called out, grabbing fistfuls of old sheets. “T-Topspin….”

“Wow, you like ‘em ugly.” Whirl grunted before returning to tuning First Aid out.

Gasping with every heavy thrust shoving him back and forth across the bed, First Aid shook and sputtered as Whirl moved harder and harder into him. “Ah! Ah! Springer! Haaarder…” he managed to let out as Whirl’s spike filled his valve.

Whirl heard ‘harder’ and he let loose. His claws wrapped so tightly around First Aid’s waist he made scrapes in his red plating. Whirl’s hips slammed hard into First Aid’s backside and made the medic let out a pained yelp.

First Aid tensed up, stiff as steel. He felt something snap in his body. Something broke, and God, it hurt. He could have sworn he was yelling, but Whirl kept going and every deep hit hurt.

He felt hot, he felt wet. His hips felt like they slipped out of Whirl’s claws, causing huge scrapes up and down his sides.

Neither could say how long it was before Whirl noticed First Aid didn’t seem right. It wasn’t before he finished, sticky overload in First Aid’s valve.

As Whirl came down from the pleasure high and saw how still First Aid was, he poked his back. “...You okay?”

“I-I think,” First Aid took a breath to steady his voice. “I think I need to go to the medbay.”

* * *

First Aid laid in bed, arms crossed and angry. Nothing like breaking your hip and bleeding everywhere while fragging and then having to convince your partner to carry you to your boss, only to be left alone on the doorstep.

“There, you’re fixed.” Ratchet said, as he closed up his work. “You’re going to want to take it extremely easy for awhile. No more “climbing”.” he said, with finger quotes. Ratchet knew his alibi was garbage, but First Aid was glad he would leave it at that.

“What about work?” First Aid asked, sitting up tenderly. Ratchet dropped a datapad onto his lap. Paperwork.

“Velocity’s offered to take some of your more vigorous cases, so you can get the rest that joint needs.” Ratchet said. “Take today to settle down, kid.”

Left alone with his thoughts, First Aid was fuming once more. Whirl didn’t show any concern for his injuries he had caused. It wasn’t surprising, but it still hurt.

First Aid couldn’t help but feel like the biggest idiot. He could have pretended he was with any wrecker while in bed with literally anyone.

But Whirl was a real wrecker.

* * *

Whirl sat at his desk, working away at a clock, fumbling with his tools. He was grumbling but still more relaxed than he had been in far longer than he could remember.

But randomly, First Aid’s voice, restrained and breaking, kept popping back into his mind. To counter it, Whirl thought about fragging him. How good it felt and how fun it was until the end.

The end...

“Bah,” he muttered, twisting a screwdriver. He felt something, and he didn’t like it. “Dumb feelings.” he said quietly. “I’ll just… never think about or look at him ever again. There. Problem solved.”

Immediately, Whirl thought about missing out on First Aid’s spike and shoved his project off the table, crashing on the floor.

“Dumb fucking spark, dumb brain, dumb, dumb stupid dumb emotions.” Whirl muttered as he paced his room.

He wanted to frag First Aid again but what bothered Whirl more was the idea of never seeing him again. He wanted to see First Aid again. Maybe even do more than that.

“Dumbass!” Whirl yelled at himself. “You played yourself! Congratulations, idiot!”

Done throwing his reaction around, Whirl looked at the mess on the floor. The remains of a new clock design, all in pieces. He picked up the pieces, turning them over with his claw.

He let his head fall back and made a disgusting noise that might count as a groan.

Whirl knew he was going to have to apologize.

* * *

First Aid spent most of his first day out of bed sitting at a desk, mildly annoyed. Forwarding calls, taking notes. He’d already been a nurse, and wasn't the least-seasoned medical professional onboard (no offense to Velocity).

When Whirl showed up, escorted by grumbling crewmates and damaged, he wished he could have hidden.

“Hey.” he said, with an accompanying nod. First Aid sat there. He’d bet all his savings that Whirl injured himself just to see him, like the plot of a romcom.

As soon as he knew Whirl was alone, First Aid walked to the back, seeing him sitting among empty beds.

Whirl had a mangled arm. Severe, but totally fixable. All surface. “Looks worse than it actually is.” Whirl said. “It doesn’t take much to get into this clubhouse.”

First Aid balled his hands into fists. “Did you need to see me again this badly?”

“Obviously.” Whirl huffed. “Look, I... I keep thinking about the other night and,” Whirl put his unmangled claw behind his head. “you know.”

“If you’re here to apologize, then do it.” First Aid spat. “I’m still hurt, and there’s nothing I want to do with you until you actually say you’re sorry.”

Whirl’s optic darted side to side before locking onto First Aid again. “Do I actually have to say it?”

“Yes!” First Aid yelled. “You have to be genuine, too.”

“What happens if I do?”

“If you don’t I’ll…” First Aid trailed off. “Wait, if… you  _ do _ ? I thought-”

“What happens,” Whirl swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood up, towering over the medic. “if I do apologize?”

“Then... we can talk.” First Aid said, trying to hold his ground. “We can be friends.”

“But can we be more?”

Total success or total failure; Whirl didn’t mess with “maybe”.

* * *

First Aid locked his door. One hand braced against the door as he leaned, the other massaging his hip. It still ached. He turned around when ready, and looked at Whirl. The blue mech was kneeling on his bed, thick belts criss-crossing over his frame and glistening in the low light.

“Y’know, I never took you to be this type.” Whirl said, stretching a little against his restraints. His legs pulled, trying to close his thighs and he tried to pull his claws from the small of his back.

“I didn’t think I was.” First Aid admitted. He ran a hand along a strap on Whirl’s leg. “These are more to control you than turn me on… Although I really do like the view.”

“You love it.” said Whirl, in a know-it-all tone. With a click, Whirl’s spike jutted out, showing he’d gotten hard just from his exposed posture.

First Aid looked at his spike, then shook his head. “If you think that’s going in me,” he said. “I don’t need my hips re-breaking.”  Whirl stared, realizing his small partner’s intention and twitched in excitement. He fidgeted as First Aid climbed into bed and his fingers went straight to Whirl’s valve.

“You’ve got a lot of repair seams.” First Aid commented. He could feel that Whirl had layer upon layer of scarring.

“That's not a sexy thing to say.” Whirl said, almost laughing. He rolled his head back, First Aid’s small fingers giving a small but good feeling.

First Aid slowed down. “You sure you’re okay with using your valve?” he asked as both a doctor and something else.

Whirl’s head flung forward so fast they were both surprised he didn’t break his neck.  “Fuck me, First Aid,” he hollered, banging against his restraints. “I’ve been a bad Autobot who fucks too hard and it’s my turn to get what’s comin’ to me!” he stopped to groan and rattle. “Nnrgh..!”

First Aid responded by jamming four fingers into Whirl and curling them hard. If Whirl wanted rough, he could do rough.

A little friendly payback is nice.

He was already wet, and First Aid just watched as Whirl’s hot frame shook as he played with his node. Whirl may have fucked too hard, but First Aid was more interested in a different kind of torture.

“Hhhrghn, First Aid…” Whirl squirmed. With one good move his hips jerked hard. “Fuck me already,” he yelled, voice shaking. “I can’t take anymore!”

First Aid stopped, but he wasn’t done. “Oh? You want me to stop?” he asked jokingly. He rubbed his node gently, finger twirling in a circle and making Whirl whine hard. “Should I? I’m not sure if I should.”

“Fuck me fuck me! Fuck me fuck me fuck!” Whirl just about screamed, no pauses between words.

First Aid rubbed his hot node with two fingers and Whirl let out screeching, unintelligible noises. He thrashed in place, chains clanking and straps creaking.

First Aid didn't stop until Whirl overloaded, unable to be teased anymore.

He twitched in place, head wobbly and moving weakly. He made tiny noises, lifting up his head to look at First Aid.

“I… said fuck…. me….” he panted. “You think... I’m… fucked yet?”

Saying nothing, First Aid just grabbed his spike with his wet hand, giving himself some good and hard strokes. “Not as fucked as you’re going to be.”

He pushed himself in, no teasing, no play. First Aid’s spike slipped in and his hips started moving. Whirl squirmed under him, hypersensitive to every touch.

“ _ Fuck like a wrecker, _ ” he thought. “ _ Fuck him like a wrecker. _ ”


End file.
